Tea, elves, jesters and madness all around
A/N: Hello! =)
This is the story of Kraid, a khajiit and probably the most unlucky Dragonborn to walk the land and who is also the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, but deep down he has a big fluffy heart. He was born and raised in Skyrim so he doesn't talk like a normal khajiit and for some unknown reason, he's also a walking magnet to all kinds of insane things. I hope you like his crazy adventures.
Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls V Skyrim belongs to Bethesda.
– Chapter 1 –
"Interesting." Neloth said to himself once again as he towered over his new source of research with a frown. The small ball of light that he conjured a while back flickered slightly around him.
"What's that, master Neloth?" Talvas wondered out loudly over his shoulder with a curious look. The young dark elf flinched as his master slowly turned around to face him stroking his pointy beard deep in thoughts.
"A book. Quite old, too colorful for my tastes and rather… moldy but a book nonetheless. Yet…" Neloth stated more to himself than to his apprentice. His bright crimson eyes traveled over Talvas as if he were measuring him, searching for something. That made the elf step back, he knew that look of his master too well. "I may need a… willing subject to succeed in further experiments." He concluded, clapping his hands.
"You see, I'm trying to manage all the tasks you gave me this morning and that flame atronach's still trying to set the cage on fire so maybe I…" Talvas quickly tried to elaborate a legitimate excuse to escape another gruesome test. That day was not even over and he already endured at least 2 failed spells. Actually, about the second one, he never saw when Neloth cast the damn thing.
"Of course I'm not going to use you, this will need a rather sturdy materi- I mean voluntary. And that's the rarest item here besides a good tea." Neloth walked around as the ball of light followed his steps and poked his apprentice in the chest with an unnatural strength, which made the other wince in pain. "You see, that won't do at all. That reminds me, where's Varona with my tea? Can't anyone here keep track of the time?!"
"Well master Neloth, she's dead. Actually it has been 3 months already." Talvas replied as he tried to keep himself as far from his master's reach as possible and soon started to rearrange the mess of ingredients and books over the room.
"Oh, that's right." The dark elf stopped, charging some spell over his right hand. "Drovas! Where are you? And don't water down my tea again!"
Then, as he released the calling spell the whole place trembled, shaking everything around them out of place. Talvas still tried to catch a few bottles of potions in his arms but another violent tremor sent him flat on his back. Amidst the whole chaos, Neloth stood unfazed.
"What was that?" asked the old mage looking up, completely oblivious to all hell breaking loose around him.
"I think something just hit the house." Talvas crawled around holding his sore head, avoiding the tide of objects on the floor as another powerful blow tilted the very core of the mushroom where the house was built.
"You don't say!" said Neloth with sarcasm etched in his voice. "Now, how about you do something about this, maybe then I can continue with my research." And with that, the elf returned to his chair as if nothing ever happened.
"But Master! You can't… I mean… it could be dangerous out there!" the poor apprentice looked at him with sheer panic. As if to reinforce his statement, a loud roar made both elves cover their ears.
"Oh great, dragons again!" exclaimed the old elf with an exasperate tone.
However, before any of them could move. A dull silence followed that deafening howl and the tremors stopped just as suddenly.
"Well, I think that's settled then. Search for any damage out there." The mage shrugged his shoulders in calm fashion. "And go see if Drovas is still alive on your way down, I don't want to look for a new steward so soon."
"O-okay." Still trembling from head to toe and a bit skeptical about the whole thing, Talvas slowly rose from his shelter (also known as under the table) and dusted his clothes, trying to look just a bit more composed.
Yet, before he could decide if leaving was really a sane thing to do, someone opened the door down there. At first he thought it might be Drovas, but the sound of heavy steps and the distinct clinking of armor pointed otherwise. Neloth seemed to notice the unusual guest too as he rose from his chair.
"What now?" he asked sounding a bit annoyed. "I really hope those foolish bandits are not trying to steal something from me again."
They didn't wait much to see who it was. The familiar figure of a tall khajiit clad in an orcish armor soon rose and landed rather clumsily at the small bridge in the center of the room. His armor was covered in a thick layer of ashes; a deep gash that looked like claws was also a new addition to his look.
"I hope you don't mind having a dead dragon on your yard, Neloth." He said as he dropped a massive dual bladed axe still covered in dark red on the floor, seeming tired and somewhat in pain. "That one was quite big and went down kicking and biting. We had a bit of a problem when it crashed down on the house." He told them while touching his face where a deep cut tore his cheek open.
"Ah, my friend from house Telvanni." Neloth greeted Kraid with an amused look. "Came in at the right moment, indeed." Whatever the dark elf had in mind to say at that moment was never heard. Another voice, this one was loud and unknown to them, cut him abruptly.
"Listener! Wait!"
What happened next made both elves raise their eyebrows in perfect synchrony.
A man wearing what looked like a bright red jester outfit emerged behind the khajiit, looking equally beaten, and tackled the warrior head first to the wooden floor with a loud noise. Both lied stretched there before them for a few moments, tangled in a messy pile of limbs and weapons.
"Cicero, how many times I said to not call me like that here." Kraid growled as he fought his way to unlatch the man from himself.
"But Cicero is worried with his Liste- I mean brother." Wailed the other one, clinging to his arm. "It's my duty as Keeper!"
"I know but now it's not the time Cicero, I can't feel my arm anymore." The khajiit finally managed to sit straight, leaning against the wall, breathing with some effort.
"What in the name of Azura was that about?" Talvas spoke first, as he looked from one to another.
"I must say that it was strangely… entertaining to watch, but I fear one of our guests here is bleeding himself dry, Talvas, in my carpet by the way." Neloth stated now with a serious tone. "Take him to where I can mend him back to his former state before the whole floor gets ruined with blood stains."
Talvas promptly moved to do as he was told, however as he approached them, the jester named Cicero somehow hit him with a well aimed strike. And soon enough, Talvas found himself sprawled on the floor again, this time with a angry jester pointing the sharp end of a black dagger at his neck.
"Oh, I forgot to say to be careful with the jester, he's a member of the Dark Brotherhood by the looks of it." He heard his master voice calling from one of the rooms as he looked for potions and probably other things. "Never understood their eccentric fashion sense, really, a jester!" he mumbled to himself as he searched through the shelves.
"Thanks for the warning, master Neloth…"
"Cicero, let him be." Kraid ordered in an impatient tone of someone that repeated that line far too many times in a day. "He's a friend." The khajiit got up using his axe to support him, undoing the laces from his damaged gloves and tossed it on the ground revealing a deep hole where one of the dragon fangs almost tore his forearm apart.
"Poor Cicero is sorry for his behavior." The jester apologized looking ashamed and in a moment the dagger was gone. He then proceeded to pull the elf back to his feet with a huge grin on his face. Talvas thought it was an equally unsettling and scary sight. "Cicero is happy to meet a friend of his…" he paused for a moment, looking for the right word. "His brother."
"This can't be good…" Talvas said to himself as the jester suddenly got a hold of one of his hands and skipped around him chanting.
A/N: So this is the end of the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading it.
Next chapter will tell the (not so epic XD) tale of how Kraid and his loyal follower Cicero ended up in Tel Mithryn.